The Lesbiana's Guide to Catholic School(82)

“Yeah . . . I know,” I say, smiling.

“So you’re not mad?” we both ask at the same time.

“No.” I laugh. I’m just relieved to hear that Bo is officially single.

“Me either,” she says. She smiles and takes my hand. “Why aren’t you mad, though? I lied to you.”

“I lied to you, too.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t about me. I know how hard it is to come out, especially when you go to Slayton. You were protecting yourself, like I was until last year.” She squeezes my hand. “I get it.”

“Thank you,” I squeeze her hand back and close my eyes. She gets it.

“I want to be clear, though, that day you told me you were straight . . .”

“I still feel terrible about that. Um . . . You looked really pretty, and I felt like you could tell I thought that, so I panicked.”

“I panicked!” Bo laughs. “That’s why I told you I had a girlfriend! It kind of snowballed from there and I was too embarrassed to admit it. I thought you were being bitchy, but we were both just gay panicking.”

“Definitely gay panicking.”

She drops her head on my shoulder and laughs into it. I lean my head on hers and laugh along. We’ve been doing a lot of laughing today. I always do, with her. I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven, because this can’t be real. Before I can overthink the implications of today, and that kiss, my phone starts buzzing. Which I honestly didn’t think was possible.

“Ugh . . . That’s probably my mom.” The screen lights up, but I can’t see a name through the cracks, so I ignore it. I’m not sure it would work if I tried to answer anyway.

“Thanks for today. I had a really good time,” I say.

“Me too. Maybe next time you’ll let me come inside?”

“Next time, definitely,” I say. She grabs my hand and kisses the back of it. She’s so freaking cute, goddamn it.

My phone goes off again. “I better get that. . . .” I groan. Mom is going. To. Kill. Me.

“Mami, I can explain—” I start, but get interrupted.

“Where are you?” Jamal’s voice is on the other end, almost yelling.

“Jamal?” I ask, taken aback. I glance at Bo, who looks surprised, hurt almost. She doesn’t hold eye contact for long. Instead she looks out the driver’s window. I guess to her, it probably looks bad that I’m talking to my “ex” on the phone instead of kissing her good night.

“Yami, where are you?” Something about the shake in his voice makes my chest tighten. He’s loud enough that I’m sure Bo can hear him, too.

“I just got home, why?” I unbuckle my seat belt.

Jamal’s voice is quieter now. Broken almost.

“I’m here. I’m taking you to the hospital. It’s Cesar.”

My feet move on their own, and I’m running inside before I have a chance to think. I don’t explain myself to Bo. I just run.





22


Drop the Commandments. Live by the Code.


Cesar is suicidal and I had no idea.

He’s already at the hospital with my mom. Thank God Jamal waited for me to get home so he could take me. I’m sure Mom made him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jamal mutters, gripping the wheel tight enough for his veins to show. I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or not. “I think I did the right thing? I don’t know what else I was supposed to do.” He’s practically hyperventilating.

If Jamal hadn’t been there . . .

“Tell me what happened. All of it,” I manage to say. Jamal’s already been through the story twice, but I can’t seem to grasp onto the details. Everything after “Cesar is suicidal” just becomes a blur. I force myself to make sense of the words this time.

“He called me a while ago. He was crying really hard and it was kind of hard to understand him, but he just kept begging me to stop him. I didn’t know what he was talking about, so I just came over.” Jamal takes in a shaky breath before continuing. “He . . . he wanted to . . .” Jamal’s voice catches like he’s going to cry.

“He wanted to what?” I ask, even though I know the answer. I need to hear it out loud.

Jamal wipes a stream of tears from his cheek with one hand and sniffles. “To die, Yami. But he also must not have wanted to, or he wouldn’t have called me, right?” Jamal sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than me. He looks at me with tears in his eyes. I nod, since words are escaping me.

“Wait, did he hurt himself?” I cover my mouth.

“No, I got there before he did anything. We called a hotline. I didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t calming down, so they had us three-way call your mom and take him in. He didn’t fight me on it. I think he knows he needs help.” His voice shakes as he talks, and I can’t bring myself to say anything back.

It should have been me. Why didn’t he call me? I had no idea he needed help. He was doing great in school. He hasn’t gotten in any fights. But clearly he wasn’t as happy as he let on. I think back to the conversation between Cesar, Jamal, and me, walking to get Takis. Cesar said tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed. I thought he was saying anyone could die at any moment, but no. He was saying his future wasn’t guaranteed. I’m so angry with myself for not having figured it out then. He tried to tell me. . . . We’re supposed to be able to read each other’s minds. In lak’ech ala k’in. I should have known. I should have known.